Tip Of Your Wing
by GaleSynch
Summary: I was prepared for reincarnation as my religion had said. However, I wasn't prepared to be reincarnated into another world and as a daughter of someone that I'd rather wouldn't be. OC Self-Insert. SI.
1. I

**Tip Of Your Wing**

**First Arc: EXISTENCE**

_"Is there any meaning to life?" _

**[1]**

* * *

...It was dark.

I couldn't see anything—not even a single ray of light.

I couldn't hear anything—not even my own heartbeats.

I couldn't feel anything—not even my own existence.

Ah...I see. This must be what living things all experience eventually—this is death.

Is there life after death?

I suppose it's something you wouldn't know until you experience it yourself—which I doubt will be pleasant.

The silence here though is quite pleasant. Then slowly, suddenly, colors burst into existence before my eyes, illuminating the darkness.

Green, blue, a cacophony of sounds surrounded me. Amidst the odd colors, someone reached out for me. A pale and slender hand that could only belong to a woman. I squinted but I could only see a halo of blond hair and eyes like the floating and dancing river that surrounds me.

"Free him for me, why don't you, child of mine?" The voice didn't sound human but it still sounded melodious and motherly.

Huh?

What did she meant by that?

... I... free who?

**[x]**

That dream again. It was if it was reminding me of my duty. The meaning of my existence in this new life and new whole different world. Familiar yet different; once upon a time, I would've never thought the worlds in the games existed. Until now, until I became living proof of games being reality. To me and my former fellow Earthlings, they're illusions but to themselves they're reality... if that makes any sense. From what I can surmise, I was summoned here by some divine entity who I still know not of.

As my religion from my former life had said. However,

I blinked, looking up at the ceiling, unable to do anything more than that. Cut me some slack, I'm still just a baby; an adorable blonde-haired blue-eyed baby mind you. Though no matter how adorable I am, mother really doesn't like me much.

Mother in this world was different.

Very much so; a dirty shade of blonde—a mockery or the sunlight—adorned her head and cascaded down her back, the strands of her hair curling and twisting like river winding down valleys. Her eyes were as cold as snow and the same shade too. She didn't seem to care much about her looks yet she managed to look captivating.

Her cold features totally complemented her cold personality.

She never showed much warmth—not to me, her own daughter and certainly not to the postman or anyone else for the matter—and barely smiles. She, however, was surprisingly talkative. She rambled on and on to me, as if I was an adult her age and not an infant in need of feeding—which she neglected a lot until I made a lot of ruckus.

That blonde lady from the Green Stream really needed to hire more reliant people. If she wanted me to help her with freeing this and that, why didn't she, like, give me a more... nicer helper?

I know this lady is my mother—at least, I think so. She was raising me wasn't she? She seemed to loathe children—she slams the door shut in the face of begging and starving children—and the disdain in her eyes for me is poorly concealed.

I was grateful though miffed at the poor treatment which continued for years.

I couldn't wait to grow up and leave.

At times, when I have nothing to do—which is most of the time—I look out the window. There's little out there, only a gray and poor scenery. The slums, Mother calls it, is where we live, a poor place for the poorest community while above us on the Plate lived the rich people.

Mother was once Don Corneo's—I remember him vaguely from the game, something quite hilarious but I couldn't remember—mistress until Father came.

I don't know who he is except for the fact that he's one of the people living on the Plate and is quite famous. Though he is famous, I have never heard or seen him before here. No one points at me and say, _hey that's so-and-so's daughter!_ so I suppose he's not that famous.

When I pointed this out to Mother, she merely snorts and shakes her head, saying _someday you'll be with him_.

I do not understand her until my sixth birthday comes by. Like all my past birthdays in this world, I lived it as I had lived everyday here: staring out the window and lending an ear to mother for her ranting and walking around the slums and pick-pocketing.

She sits at the kitchen table, sober and not whining about some hangover, and is clutching her chest. I stare at her, concerned. But I hold my tongue because I know of her disdain for me and she dislikes showing weakness; she says this is why my soldier of a father took a liking to her which gets her out of the hellhole.

She also repeats this tale to me a lot of times. Her tone is always tinged with bitterness and grudging gratefulness. On good days, she says that maybe I'm not such a bad thing after all. On very bad days, she says the complete contrary and that's my cue to get out of the shack and hide before she chooses to take this out on me. I usually sneak back in during midnight or when I'm sure she's out of the line of fire.

But back to my mother sitting on the table. She raises her head and stares at me. Abruptly, she stands and lunges for me. She is more enhanced than average civilians but she is still weaker than an average SOLDIER by greatly. I suppose this strength of hers comes from the semen which creates me in her womb. Wonder how a small cell can make me out.

"Mother—I mean, May, what's wrong?"

That's another rule of the house. May says she thinks Mother is too old a title for one as youthful as her. She is merely sixteen when she has me.

I stare up inquiringly at her face, gulping at the almost crazy look in her eyes. Maybe she's finally snapped. Yeesh, better run for now. Maybe if I'm lucky, I can get a doctor.

"Get out," she says coolly, almost calmly. The tone belies her insanity and anger. I don't know what she'll do to me if I insist to stay so I nod and run.

You see, I'm a little bit of a coward. One might see it that way but another might see it as wise. Living in the slums where only the fittest may survive, a child quickly learns by instinct to avoid all sorts of danger. You see that person that look like he might hurt or kill you? You run like the wind or when he's caught you, ruse your way out.

Mother—sorry, May; I call her the former title to annoy her and sometimes, very rarely, for endearment though I don't know what she thinks of this—has taught me all this. She's quite the actress and when acting, it's the only time she breaks out of her cold and bitter demeanor.

When some tough guys come to our house to demand our rent payment, she breaks into tears and says some things to convince them to give her another few months. It hasn't failed once. Well, there's this one time when I'm three but she uses me to draw more sympathy.

"Blue eyes are apparently worth more than they seem," she remarks, staring into my blue hues before grunting and going to her room to do who-knows-what. She has amber eyes and an oval face, eyes almond shaped that is rare among the people in the slums. I wonder what's May's nationality in this world.

When Mother tells to scram, I usually do as told. But this time, when I turn the doorknob, fully aware of her gaze behind my back, I turn.

She glares back at me, her fiery orbs seeming to glow in the dark with fire. She opens her mouth to say something, most likely a spiteful word or a curse but she coughs and keels over. My breath hitch but I bite my tongue, refraining from saying anything because May will just take it as pity and it'll simply feed her anger.

Her sleeve slides down on the right and I stare, stunned, at the strange green moss on her right shoulder, pulsing and the flesh there rotting away, the stench and how it pulses.

"Gah," I slap a hand over my mouth. "What is that?"

"Get out of here! Don't ever come back!" My so-called mother screams shrilly, grabbing a chair and hurling it my way. I duck and run out of the door, slamming the door shut.

And this time, I don't look back.


	2. II

**Tip Of Your Wing**

**First Arc: EXISTENCE**

**[2]**

* * *

The child was an odd one.

The blonde child picked at the lump known as food to the SOLDIER-hopefuls, then she blinked her wide Mako-eyes as the thing _moved_.

_That_ took one Zack Fair's eyes off the girl and to the meat (supposedly). Instead of reacting with a shocked gasp, or jaw dropping—like Zack was doing now—she laughed, her eyes sparkling as she pushed the lump of meat onto the ground.

"It's dead," the child laughed, twirling her fork between her fingers before stabbing it into the meat, making sounds of battle as she did so. As if she'd been in battle with her food. The thing twitched one before it stopped moving completely. Zack felt offended and weirded out at once.

Offended because he'd done a lot of begging and whining to get her food and a clean fork. And he was weirded out to know she shared the same eccentric habit of playing with food with a certain crimson SOLDIER.

What had made him done such a good will thing, you ask? The SOLDIER cadet had been trying to outrun the rain when he'd bump into the kid. She'd looked up at him with such wide and pitiful eyes, when he'd heard the loud growling of her stomach, and Zack just couldn't resist bringing her back with him to ShinRa though he didn't see anyway of raising her there even though he'd decided to do so.

He thought the term 'father' was too much for him to take so he'd just introduced himself as "Big Brother Zack"—he was sixteen and that was excusable. Though the kid didn't seem to care much, she just called him _Z_.

"Aren't you hungry?" Zack asked, more curious than concern.

The child sneered. "You expect _me_ to eat shit like that?"

Zack's jaw dropped. She was just a kid and she was already cussing? He didn't know how to reprimand her or to get her to stop doing so. He tilted his head to the side, suddenly remembering once when he'd said the "F-bomb" and Angeal, his mentor, had cuffed him. When he made to do so, the girl slapped his hand away with surprising force.

"Don't touch my hair," the girl ordered rather imperiously for a child her age.

"Kid, how old are you?"

"My name is not Kid." She sniffed before turning her head to the side petulantly.

"But you didn't tell me your name!" Zack protested. "How am I supposed to know what to call you?"

The girl stiffened, turning to him with wide eyes. Just like the first time he'd met her, she had those eyes under the rain again.

-0-

He...this Zack guy...was he actually asking me my name?

That...that was ridiculous. I could've told him my name if... he'd asked later when I could finally grasp the meanings and the beauty of English names. I'd been so used to be by myself that I'd nearly forgotten the fact May had never given me a name. I sincerely doubted that I even have a birth certificate. In a world like this, where the government was a terrible ruler and there were so many orphans in the slums, I was pretty sure it's quite normal.

"Er..." I really don't have an answer to that, Z, what do you want me to do? But of course, I didn't say that out loud. I blinked blankly at him. "I'm not telling you." _I don't know what I should tell you_.

Zack tilted his head to the side again, before he smiled. "That's okay!" he said chirpily. "Nothing changes the fact that I am your brother."

"My mother never mentioned a child before me," I responded slowly.

Zack actually laughed, but he didn't explain anything, grabbing me and ushering me out of the cafeteria and down the dark hallway. Neither of us had much trouble navigating through the place, for entirely different reasons—I could see clearly in the dark and Zack was simply used to it after having been acquainted with the walls and floor many times before.

"Where are you taking me?" I demanded when I stumbled into the elevator.

"I want to take you in but I'm not even legal! So I'd just have my mentor take you in." Zack explained in his still very much cheerful voice.

"And he'd just agree like that?" I frowned, trying to scrape some of my old memories. I knew a little about Zack and Cloud and the rest of the AVALANCHE members. But I don't know much about his mentor and the rest of the SOLDIERs. "Is he really that nice?"

"He wouldn't be able to resist helping somebody out!" Zack laughed again, his violet eyes sparkling. "Once I flash my famous hurt-puppy look, he'll crumble and your blue eyes will convince him even more. Man, I really have to teach you how to do that—"

I tuned out his incessant pestering, frowning up at the slowly increasing numbers and Zack's chatters were increasing as well, just at a much faster pace. I would've leaped out of the elevator if it wasn't for someone blocking the damned way. I scowled but before I can say anything, Zack wrenched me back to his side, partially hiding me behind his tall and lean form.

I couldn't see who it was with Zack placing his hand on my head and pushing me behind him ever more, but I could from how strained and forceful Zack's greeting was, he and the stranger didn't get along so well.

The person swept in gracefully and the slightly nasal, but baritone voice told me it was a male that had spoken. My skin tingled faintly as something seemed to prod my head but when I turned my head, no one was there. The cold presence shrouding me, suffocating, made me bury my head into Zack's fabric pants.

"Why, Zackary," the male stranger said, and I could hear his sneer from the tone. "Shouldn't you be training for the upcoming SOLDIER exam instead of..." he trailed off and by how Zack pushed me behind him, I could tell he was looking at me. "...bringing in stray kittens from the streets. Slumrats are known for stealing, you best be careful."

I scowled, ready to rebuke when Zack snapped a quick goodbye and hauled me out of the elevator before I can sink my teeth into the red-clad stranger's arm.

"You should've punched him for me." I huffed when Zack settled me down on my feet. He held my hand as he guided me down the darkly lit hallway.

"I would if I could," Zack said, true disdain in his voice—I figured whoever could rile Zack up so badly wasn't exactly a nice person. "But the problem is: he's my commanding officer. Unless I wanted to be kick out of the SOLDIER program, I would have to endure it." Then he placed his hand on my hair and ruffled it. "Don't worry, kid, once I'm a SOLDIER first too—I'll punch him for you!"

"SOLDIER..." Zack looked down at me curiously.

"What about SOLDIER?" he inquired as we made another sharp turn through the winding hall. The hall which he led me to was even darker and my common sense was telling me to be careful. _What the heck are you doing with some stranger you don't know?_ The smart-me, aka common sense of mine, yelled at me. _How do you know he wouldn't harm you? Are you stupid, mentally retarded_? That was rather probable because it had just occured to me that I don't even know Zack that well; aside from his name and some of his personality and that he talks a lot and acts like a damn puppy.

I looked up at Zack, realizing belatedly that he wanted an answer.

"Why do you want to be one?" I remember that, from the game, this fact was rather important but I just couldn't remember. Blame my bad memory but I really needed the reassurance that there was at least one person in this world would care about me. I had an older brother with me in the past life, teaching me and protecting me—so I wasn't lonely. And now that I thought about it, Zack looked a little like Lee...

"It's my dream to be a hero! And to be a hero, you must have dreams—"

And bravery; without bravery there would be no heroes.

Whatever Zack said was drowned out by my own thoughts and the sounding _click_ as a door flung open.

"Zack." A baritone masculine voice—though hard was warm and exasperated—sliced through whatever Zack had to said and the two of us turn to see who had spoken. "what are you doing here?"

Zack grinned. "Angeal!"

And before I knew it, I was scooped up and found myself face-to-face with a stunned man. We were both silent as we inspected one another. The man was rather handsome in a ruggish and burlish way. He was tall too, and I would be cracking my neck to see his face. He looked like Zack with how his bangs fell around his face; the dark hair and violet-blue eyes supported the fact that they're related too.

I was about to make a snide remark—to Zack because I didn't want this guy to snap me in half just yet(and I know he can do just that easily, he's not a guy you'd mess with)—when the man reacted.

His roar deafened me, must've woke up the whole building, and would've sent me flying with the sheer force of his speech if Zack wasn't rooted to the ground in terror and confusion.

"_GENESIS_! WHAT_ HAVE YOU DONE_?!"

* * *

**-0-**

**Thanks for the reviews! And if you're interested, check out my other SI story, it's centered on the Remnants and would be more darker than this one.**

**Chapter Recount: **Basically, Zack met the OC and she meets her sire...I'm sure you already guessed who it is.


	3. III

**Tip Of Your Wing**

**First Arc: EXISTENCE**

**[3]**

* * *

Zack instantly snapped into control damage mood the moment the first sniffles escaped the girl's lips. He pulled the kid back, wondering what Genesis had done, just as Masamune sung its deadly lullaby through the air. He pulled the blonde to his chest and gawked at the General.

Sephiroth pulled Masamune back as quickly as he had thrust it. He studied the situation: Zack, shocked. The unknown kid crying and Angeal, enraged. Typical. He raised an eyebrow in askance _what happened_.

Zack gave a helpless shrug. "I just wanted to find a place for this kid to stay," he started weakly. "I don't know what Genesis had to do with this."

Angeal's shoulders slumped at the mention of their friend. "Just...just look at the kid closely." Sephiroth made to do so but the child flinched away. As gently as possible—didn't want to accidently break her jaw after all—he grasped the girl's chin and tilted her head up. He inspected her in a second and (fortunately) didn't react like Angeal—which might have sent the kid running.

"It might just be a coincidence," Sephiroth finally remarked after a pregnant pause.

"I don't get it," Zack mumbled but neither man answered him. "Can she stay? I really don't think she can live with me in the barracks."

"Why did you bring her back in the first place?"

"She looks lonely and lost and homeless!" Surely, not even Sephiroth would deny children a roof above their head. Apparently he could because he answered: "Half of the children under the Plate are homeless. She is no different."

Zack scowled. "Well, she's lucky then."

Rolling his eyes almost imperceptibly, the General of ShinRa waved away the gathering SOLDIERs—who rushed to the scene hearing Angeal's roar—before turning back to his apartment door. He paused before entering. "Angeal, perhaps it will be wiser to observe her first and see what she knows before assuming all the wrong things." And the door closed quietly.

Zack didn't know how the silver-haired man managed to close his door soundlessly. The doors provided by ShinRa always made a terrible screeching sound when it opened or closed. Maybe things were different for the SOLDIERs? Man, it just strengthened his resolve to be one—that way, no longer nights where he'd wake up due to the sound of a door opening in the middle of night! The cadet blinked away the imagination when the kid in his arms shifted. Against her will. Angeal had picked the girl up, lifted her high in the air and scrutinized her. The kid stared back with wide terrified eyes.

"'Geal," Zack whined. "She's scared of you."

"I apologize for yelling in your face earlier..." the burly First managed, still studying the girl as if she was an alien before he finally moved—at Zack's insistence—into his apartment.

Right at home, Zack threw himself onto the couch, slouching lazily. He noticed the kid wriggling in Angeals' grasp, trying to escape and he decided to help her out. "'Geal, why did you react so...so..._extreme_ in her presence?"

The kid stopped squirming and shot Angeal a look which could translate into _put me down_ or _hear him_. Angeal abided the former silent order but he ignored Zack. The moment her feet touched ground, she shot towards Zack, her fists grabbing the fabric of his shirt and she glowered at him _take me away_.

But Zack merely laughed, ruffling her blonde hair which earned him a slap. "You'll do fine here!" he said as he stood up. "Angeal will take good care of you." He moved towards the door, swiping the girl up and throwing her into Angeal's grasp. "Bye!"

-0-

And he was gone. Just like that, can you believe that guy? Damn, what should I do now? I knew Zack was fooled by my act earlier but I don't think guy bought it. Fuck.

The stern man placed me on the pristine white sofa—the damn place was so pristine and clean that I nearly cringed being the only dirty thing in sight—and crossed his arms, staring down at me intensely. "What do you know of your parents?"

And thus, the interrogation started.

"Nothing. Never met my dad"—Angeal's eyes flashed—"and my mom raised me alone." My frown turned sour. "My sire never sent a stupid paycheck or even child-support to the mother who gave birth to me. And my mother was a crazy lunatic who'd kick me out of her house for the sake of her new boyfriend." I sighed rather dramatically. "Eh, what else do you want to know?"

"What is your name?" Angeal asked in a much softer tone.

I shrugged. "It's okay if you don't tell me but—"

"I meant it. I don't have a name, the woman always called me 'Kid' or 'Girl' and on bad days 'Bastard'," I watched Angeals' growing look of horror and couldn't keep my amusement in check. Maybe I can exaggerate things...? "She called me monster sometimes, when I broke something in the house."

"What—why—" Angeal choked and spluttered, trying to find something appropriate to say in front of the kid who must be rather sociopathic in the care of such woman—and the father was going to _pay_. "Has she no honor?"

"那是什么?" I asked innocently, snickering. Angeal stared at me with a blank look, making me realize that I'd been speaking Chinese—not a viable language here though Wutai must have rung a bell.

"You spoke perfect Wutaiese," Angeal stated calmly, flatly. "Is your mother Wutaian?"

"不知道," I sat up straighter. "你—how did you know what I'm saying?" Damn, if he understood what I was saying, I wouldn't be able to curse all I want without getting reprimanded. Oh, and how am I suppose to come up with a reason as to how I know Chinese—Wutaiese here—when my mother, the only guardian, never spoke such language. I hoped to Minerva that she knows Wutai.

"I was stationed quite a while in Wutai..." The man furrowed his brows. "...so I know some of it. Besides, Wutaiese is a beautiful language." _Especially their poetries and many wise words that rhymes beautifully_, he thought as he tried for a smile which I returned.

_Beautiful language full of cusses, yeah_!

I beamed and Angeal smiled back. I don't know why but I felt as if there had been a huge misunderstanding between us about the language discussion.

After that, Angeal asked me a few more questions and sent me to bed (after ordering me to bathe and changed into Zack's smallest badge of clothes). I poked my head out of the door before he can close it. "晚安!"

Awkwardly, he returned it: "Wan an."

-0-

The moment the door to his room closed, Angeal ripped out his PHS and dialled Genesis' number. He hesitated at the last moment, not knowing how effective yelling at his old friend through the phone. At best, Genesis understood who the kid is and realized their relation. At worst, Angeal'd make a complete mistake and the kid wasn't his.

Ring. Ring. Click—"Rhapsodos speaking." Genesis' meliffluous voice flitted through the receiver and how calm he sounded irritated Angeal.

"Genesis, where are you?" Angeal's eyebrow twitched when he heard the unmistakable sounds of a girl giggling rather close and the loud booms of music. "You better come back."

"Why? I'm quite, ah, busy at the moment."

"Tomorrow, nine sharp. Usual training ground."

"What invoked this?"

"Your girl."

"What girl—"

Anegal snapped his PHS shut and slipped it into his pocket. He slumped back on the couch. Tomorrow was going to be full of shouting and denials, he was sure. And just imagining it was tiring. He was sure going through it would be terrible.

-0-

I groaned as sunlight spilled in through the windows, drawing me away from sleep's embrace. My eyes cracked open unwillingly. I jerked awake the moment I realize that I was not in May's house so where am I—

The day before's events crashed onto me and I slumped back onto the large comforter. I snuggled in Angeal's creamy comforter a little longer until someone pulled me away. I mumbled rude words and tried to shoo them away but the pull became even more insistent.

"Kid, wake up." Now the person sounded exasperated. "You're just like him."

That got my attention. I rolled over, wriggling out of Angeal's grasp to look at him properly. "How so?" I inquired, rubbing my eyes to chase away the sleepiness.

"He sleeps like the dead. I've been calling you for the past..." the burly First checked his watch and sighed. "Five minutes. Now get up." The last part was added in a much sterner voice, most likely his 'commando' voice and I rolled over, standing on the ground.

"'m up, gramps." A sneer tugged at my lips before I knew it. I stumbled blindly to the bathroom, missing the look of unpleasant surprise on Angeal's face.

Angeal was nice despite his large and terrifying frame so shouldn't one take advantage of that? He was annoying though. He insisted I eat a healthy breakfast; salad. Under his stern and intense look, I managed to choke it down and not vomit it out.

I stuck my tongue out—indulging myself in one of my children urges—as I was hauled out the apartment by a thoroughly irritated Angeal. He was typing away on his PHS, my footsteps telling him I was still there. Wonder if I can outrun him? As if sensing my thoughts, he grabbed my arm and pull me down another direction.

I stumbled to catch up with his longer footsteps. "Where are _we_ going?"

Angeal stopped, I did too. I looked up at him, quite scared that I'd pushed him past the point of no return. But he merely muttered, "Get ready," before the automatic doors slid open and we entered.

A red clad man that was the Genesis Rhapsodos Zack alerted me to avoid stood in the middle. He looked irritated and by misplaced anger, threw a glare my way.

Geez. What did I do to offend His Majesty?

-0-

Genesis Rhapsodos and children just did not mix. A prime example was now, the girl dared to mock him. He already knew he was going to hate her. With great difficulty, he turned back to Angeal and through gritted teeth, delivered a, "What's the meaning of this?"

His old friend—but after this, they can forget they ever met—ushered the child forward. The two equally stubborn people shot one another brief glares before turning to the only dark haired man in the room. He was frowning at Genesis though.

"You don't recognize her?"

"Never met her in my life!"

Well, not true. She looked like someone from the past—the name he could barely remember—but it was simply impossible to even consider that she was—

"What about you?" That was directed at the girl.

"I have very bad memory...but," she bit her lip, most likely to act her way out of trouble—if there was one coming her way. "I don't think so." She added softly, widening her eyes. She was the epitome of innocent—Genesis wasn't fooled—but Angeal's will crumble instantly.

He turned to Genesis. "Are you sure you don't know anyone who resembles her in the slightest?"

No. Not very. There's this one hot blonde chick— "Yes. Very sure." He fibbed but Angeal was so used to his lies that he picked it out right away.

"Spit it."

"There's this chick named... I think it started it a 'm' but beyond that..."

"May?" the girl suddenly piped up, her eyes wide with horror and Genesis suddenly felt like a thousand pounds of stones had dropped into his stomach. He nodded absent mindedly, wondering how would she know oh unless—

"Your long lost daughter, Gen?" Angeal grumbled, tapping his foot in that _i-am-going-to-scold-you _manner of his.

The two's cries were loud and full of denials. Maybe direct confrontation was a wrong planning on Angeal's part.

He sighed, launching himself into damage control mode.

-0-


	4. IV

**Tip Of Your Wing**

**First Arc: EXISTENCE**

**[4]**

* * *

I have been expecting rejection. Angeal assumes that I am Genesis' daughter and from what Zack has told me, he doesn't seem likable; arrogant, snobbish and always believes he's right and the strongest and hell-bent on his own way—basically, it surmises me. And everyone knows that people with the same aggressive personality don't mix well.

I know Genesis might reject me but when he practically yells it out to the whole world and is recorded by the cameras in the training facility; it hurts like hell. I recoil, stumbling back into Angeal's arms. He doesn't push me away like Genesis does, instead, he holds me and there's real sympathy and concern there.

Ah, how many years has it been since someone showed me kindness?

I sniffle—half-act half-real—before glaring at Genesis.

He glares at me and Angeal and the latter glares back. "Genesis," Angeal hisses, his grip tightening on me briefly. "How can you say that in front of her?"

There's hesitation on my sire's part. "You brought her here," he says mulishly, shifting on his feet. Blaming others, I know this well. May has taught me to throw the blame on someone else and act innocent; don't draw trouble in the first place is actually the best solution to our problems.

Despite her good advice, I still have trouble with the other slum kids—some are my friends and allies but mostly, especially the older kids who picks on the younger ones, are enemies—but May's techniques come in handy sometimes.

I dig my fingers into Angeal's shirt. "Can we please leave him alone?"

"Yes, leave me alone!" Pause. "Oh..." He glances at me uncomfortably, as if he's just realized I'm the one saying that.

Angeal grunts, shooting Genesis a look _we'll talk later_ before he carries me away.

I want to curl up in his gigantic couch or comfy bed but instead of going back to the apartment, he carries me to his office. Luckily, there's a couch there and I snuggle up there, pulling my knees to my chest and gazing around the plain office. It's the happiest thing to happen to me today, to relax in this peaceful and clean atmosphere—which doesn't say much for my current life in this world.

The burly First shoots me an uncomfortable look but he settles himself behind his desk and starts to sign away the reports. He's working so fast and mechanically that I'm surprise that he's not a robot; would've doubted his humanity had I not touched him and felt his warm blood under the skin.

"You know," says Angeal after a few moments of silence. "I don't think Genesis meant what he said."

I tilt my head to the side. "Think. You said _think_. That means you're not sure."

"What you just said cement the fact that you're Genesis' daughter more than ever. You said the same thing he did when we were trapped in the cave back in Banora."

"Banora?"

"Mine and your father's hometown."

I glance at Angeal, noting the stress lines on his face and the dark rings beneath his eyes. And I remember how Genesis had look, he didn't look as stressed as Angeal had, in fact, he seemed to be blooming with life in his prime years while Angeal's rotting away here.

"I wish you were my father instead..." I say softly but instantly gulp, worrying my lip when he looks up from his pile of work. He looks stunned but then a grin blossomed on his face.

"You think I'll make a great dad?" I nod and Angeal seems to glow under the praise. "That's good," he says, smiling softly now. "I really want to be a dad someday." His face darkens. "Genesis has a chance since he's not...as shy as me."

"You? Shy?"

He nods and scrutinizes me. "No matter how much we both want things to be different," he shrugs helplessly. "Genesis is still your father and he will be yours."

"You can't force him. If I'm like him, then I'll know I won't let anyone force me. The more you force me, the more I wouldn't want to do that." I snort, wrapping my arms tighter around me. I place my head on my arms, staring as Angeal continue to work like some sort of machine. Over the hours, I got bored and I start to wander around the office. Angeal lets me read some of Zack's adventure novels, the romance, porn, horror and action are all off limits until I grow up. What he doesn't know is that I'm older than my six year old body. Though I indulge myself in my childish tantrums once in a while.

"Right," Angeal claps his hand and stands, stretching and to my enhanced hearing, I can hear every bones creaking with that movement. "Come on, er, kid, let's go for lunch."

"Where?"

"Cafeteria. Come on." He holds the door out for me as I skip out, mood considerably better than when I met Genesis earlier.

Too bad, I spoke too soon.

I scowl at the familiar red duster in sight. My sire spots me easily as I did him. He stiffens just as Angeal and I did a second ago. He glances between us, opens then closes his mouth when he thinks better and turns away from the direction where the cafeteria is.

I sneer even before his figure is completely out of sight. "Oh, he's going to eat at the cafeteria too. Surprise, surprise," Sarcasm leaks into my tone but I can't help the bitterness mixed in too."I thought he was way above us poor commoners to even grace us with his fucking presence. Oh, how luck—"

"If there's any doubt left in my mind about your sire," Angeal cuts in dryly, cuffing me and holding me above the ground. "it's all gone now. Did you know how you sound and how you look? If I hadn't known any better, I would've thought you're Genesis under disguise." He chuckles, swinging me about before placing me on his shoulders.

I think I can get very used to Angeal's presence like this.

I grin, my smile less bitter than before, when Zack greets us at the cafeteria.

All the recruits' attention are on us, specifically on me and they must be wondering why Angeal Hewley is carrying a child. I think I sorta enjoy the attention; another trait Genesis passed on to me I suppose. That's something I don't mind.

**[x]**

You wonder why you feel this way. This irritating jealousy burning deep in your gut. You feel jealous on both accounts when you hear their words. How she sounds so much like you when you're talking to your childhood best friend and how said friend laughs and accepts her, seeming to be more fond of her than you and how she likes him better than you. And when you silently creep back to the hallway where you see them again.

And jealousy imprints the scene in your retinas, burn it so deeply you doubt the scar will go away.

You swallow the urge to yell and throw a tantrum and storm off instead. "_Dreams of the morrow hath the shattered soul/Pride is lost/Wings stripped away, the end is nigh—_" When you recite these words you feel a sense of relief but when a blonde woman passes you, your mind turns back to that of a blonde child that looks so much like you that no one could ever deny she's yours.

You silently wonder, seething, wondering why you feel such irritation seeing their closeness. You are sure you're jealous of Angeal but what's there to be jealous of? Maybe you're jealous about your own daughter, for stealing your best friend away but that's ridiculous—the notion of a child and adult being best friends, haha.

No matter how you convince yourself that it's true, you know it isn't.

Instead of going back to your office, you stop by Sephiroth's office which is practically where he sleeps, lives and eats. You storm in with your usual flourish and grace and your other good friend doesn't even look up to acknowledge you, used to this. You flung yourself onto his couch, crossing your long legs and placing them on his table, disturbing some of the papers and he glares at you spitefully for this.

He stares at you and you stare back.

Relenting because you know you'll just lose in a staring contest, you say, "Today sucks."

"I thought you'll be with Angeal." Sephiroth looks down at his paperwork then back at him even before he manage to write anything down on the paper. "By the way... the child, is it...?"

You remain silent, lips pressed into thin lines; but that is enough of an answer to Sephiroth.

"What are you doing to do now?"

"What do you think I should do?"

You pause because asking Sephiroth is a really stupid choice. That man, however charismatic he is, is still a social idiot. Asking him, bah, you might as have asked a wall. You snort at the thought but Sephiroth ignores you.

"Will you raise her?"

"Angeal seems to be doing a good job," You respond, trying to keep your tone flat and emotionless. But it's futile because you have never been the most emotionless person on Gaia—quite the opposite actually—and Sephiroth is a master at picking things out.

"Jealous?"

"Why should I?"

"Angeal's replacing you in her life." Pause. "What did you say to her?"

"I don't want her, that she couldn't be mine."

Sephiroth pauses, tapping the end of pen on the table as he contemplates. "That's... insensitive."

"That's rich, coming from you," You say snidely.

"How did she react?"

"You care oh-so-much."

"And you don't?"

You expect no less from Sephiroth. As always, he sees through you just as he sees through the window. Your lips curl down as you reply, "She seems to be taking Angeal's time away from us."

"You say that the time he told us that he wanted to take Zack as his apprentice," Sephiroth smooths out the wrinkled end of the paper, his intense scrutinizing gaze finally off you. "But you got over it in the end."

"But things are different now! That kid, whatever her name is, is going to be staying with him permanently! He wants to raise her—"

"That's good then," says Sephiroth, arranging the papers and placing them in a neat stack to his right before he fishes out other important documents and reading them over. "You don't have to bother about her."

"But she's _my_ daughter, hello, did you know that?" You can't help the sarcasm but you find comfort in it, you think sarcasm is a suitable defense mechanism of sorts.

Sephiroth stares at you again but this time his expression leans more to the line of exasperation which you once assume is impossible to show itself in the silver-haired man. "Why are you contradicting yourself? You said you don't want her and she couldn't possibly be your daughter now you're admitting she's yours and that you might want to raise her?" Your friend look baffled, and you take a moment to feel guilty because you just made him more confused about human emotions and feelings.

"I—"

"Look," Sephiroth cuts in, brows furrowing and you know your time with him is up and his patience is running thin. "If you want to raise her, tell Angeal and the child that. You are her father which means you have more rights to her than anyone else, except, perhaps her mother. Now, get out of my office."

Scowling, slightly miffed, but feeling grateful for him to have given you advice and some pointers—even though he's the worst teacher in the world. He stands upright and turns towards the door but as your hand turns the doorknob, Sephiroth's voice stops you.

"Oh, don't forget to give her a name."

You pause, baffled, then you turn to face your friend. "What?"

Sephiroth might have smiled at you for your confusion but he doesn't. It implies the seriousness of this situation. "Even _I_ have a name. She doesn't, your child doesn't even exist in the database for civilians."

"_Come again_?"

"Her mother didn't register her birth and, if she was _even_ born there, the hospital didn't make one for her either. You have to do something about that, or get Angeal to do it." Seeing your furious glare, he adds, "You know what we are, Genesis, it'll be easy for either Hojo and Hollander to take her away and we will never be able to find anything nor can we get any help because she never existed in the eyes of society and to them, we might be trying to catch the wind as far as they can tell."

"Everyone knows what wind is."

Sephiroth glares at you and once you'd think it's terrifying but now you know his glare is as harmless as a mosquito. "Get her a birth certificate," he practically orders you and proceeds to shoo you out.

But you remain, persisted because you're not satisfied that your socially inept friend knows more about your daughter than you do. "How did you find out?"

"Research." Then your friend wince when he realizes how he sounds like some sort of scientist—which is the sort of people he hates the most seconded to cowards.

"You scroll through thousands and thousands of people's face just to—" When you say this, you feel a touch of gratitude and your stomach burn comfortingly at this.

Sephiroth scowls and if your eyes are not playing tricks on you, you see a tint of pink on his cheeks. "The secretary helped too."

"She's crazy to do that but then she is one of the Silver Elites right? And they're crazy about you.  
_There is no hate, only joy/For you are beloved by the goddess/Hero of the dawn, Healer of worlds._"

"Get out of here, Gen."

You smirk before you duck out of his office.

_"My friend, your desire_

_Is the bringer of life, the gift of the goddess_

_Even if the morrow is barren of promises_

_Nothing shall forestall my return."_

When you leave, you wonder what sort of name shall your daughter have. You chose to contemplate about her name first because thinking about whether or not you'll raise her instead of leaving in 'Geal's hand will only bring about a bad mood and a migraine. You're not even raising the child yet, and you're already like this, you think, you wonder how you will manage her. And is she's really so similar to you who gives people migraines of the century, you wonder will you survive her attitude like the people before you have suriveved yours.

You rub your forehead, pulling out your favored book and flipping it. "_When the war of the beasts brings about the world's end_

_The goddess descends from the sky_

_Wings of light and dark spread afar_

_She guides us to bliss, her gift everlasting_" You pause because you just had something akin to epiphany. "_The goddess descends from the sky...Wings of light and dark spread afar... _Huh."

"L'cie." _Sky._ You think it's perfect because it's unique and has that whimsical muse to it.

You push open the doors, hoping that they're still there and they are. Zack bristles angrily when he sees you, Angeal must've told him what you did. You pause, wondering confronting them here is wise; you stare at the sea of eyes, formless creatures watching the show.

You scowl but you stroll forward anyway, towards your daughter and her 'uncles'.

She stares up at you, curious and there's that resentment in her blue eyes tinted by green; a beautiful faded color of the sea in Junon and so much like yours that you wonder what sort of idiot wouldn't know she's yours. You don't think it'll work out so well after all when you see her eyes, the resentment growing and Angeal doesn't ready to let her go.

But you try anyway, you crouch to her level and start to speak.

* * *

A/N

L'Cie is an anagram of "ciel", a French word for "sky". Its root is the Latin "caelum". And yes, it comes from FF XIII. The second person pov is from Genesis and when someone other than the OC is narrating, it'll be second person pov. Except for the front chapters there won't be third person pov and first person pov is only for the OC. Hope it clears things up.

Were they too OOC? Are they IC? Review and tell me!


	5. V

**Tip Of Your Wing**

**First Arc: EXISTENCE**

**[5]**

* * *

I peer into the bathroom, taking everything in with keen eyes, nodding in satisfaction and pulling back. My feet made soft pitter-patter sounds as I step out of it. I know Genesis' staring at my back, like he's trying to drill holes into me or something but I don't bother telling him that.

I turn open the doorknob to the last room I had yet to explore in this new home of mine - if I don't get kick out by enraging said owner of apartment - and hesitate when I spot the large king sized bed, and the many shelves crammed with books. The colors in the room are mostly filled with red and white and black; I knew instantly its Genesis' room and since the man seems like someone who loves his privacy, I turn to him for affirmation.

He scrutinizes me heavily, as if he's gauging me for what I'd steal before he nods, slowly. Man, seeing his reluctance, I don't really feel like exploring anymore. My excitement dwindling already, I scan the place and turn back to the man who's supposed to be my father.

"Done," I mutter, unenthusiastic.

Silence reigns, uncomfortable and awkward and that's a surprise. From what I can gather, Genesis is not an awkward man but his face seems to be displaying that very emotion now. Fortunately - or unfortunately, depending on the viewer - my stomach growls loudly and it breaks the silence and helps us decide what to do next.

"Uh," Genesis clears his throat uncomfortably. "So, what do you want to eat?"

"Can't you cook?" Well, May can't cook either so I'm looking forward to a home-cook meal but I'm slightly disappointed when my sire shakes his head.

"Angeal does all the home-cooking," he says.

"Oh, then, should we go to him - "

"No!"

"Urk... the cafeteria?" I suggest after Genesis' loud outburst, wonder why he protest; weird guy.

"You want to eat such crap?" He snorts. Recalling the lumpy, hairy thing, I blanch, shaking my head, my blonde strands flying around following my head's rapid movements. "Then, let's go." He glances down at me clothes, then grimaces. "And on the way, we might as well stop at some thrift stores to buy you more fitting clothes."

I understand what he meant; I don't want to keep wearing lab clothes - the only suitable article clothing in Shinra Angeal managed to find - either.

We leave and what an odd pair we must've made because people keep staring. I stumble to keep up with the man's longer strides and he's inconsiderate to not slow down. By the time we exit Shinra and arrive at some fancy restaurant, I am already out of breath and Genesis seems amuse at my expense. Fortunately, after not moving for about a few minutes while Genesis looks around, I recover.

"L'Cie - " His hand suddenly clamps onto my head - small enough to fit in his large palm completely and I imagine how easy it is for him to squeeze my brains out and I nearly scream at the image - and pushes me out of the way. I stand, stunned and immobile. Did I just hear a flash! only producible by cameras? " - we have reporters hot on our heels." Genesis says, sighing as his hand fall from my head.

"Below the Plate?" I ask, as we start to walk again.

Genesis grimaces, obviously not so keen on spending time in the slums where everything is the opposite of his pristine cleanliness. Another flash and he's suddenly ushering me away. "Below the Plate it is," he agrees.

I've never ridden the train that carries people up and down the Plate before. I met Zack when I'm above the Plate, where I'd climbed up from the wire where children hangs about and how slumrats sneak up here to steal valuables or - more commonly - food and clothes. I don't rat them out of course, since I'm one of them.

I watch in awe as the scenery flashes past us and I savor the sight.

"Why did you shy away?" Genesis asks, abruptly, out of the blue and it makes me tear my gaze away from the window and to my father. Upon seeing my baffled look, he elaborates, "When I pushed you out of the reporter's sight, you flinched upon contact, why?"

How perceptive but I suppose that's expected of an army commander. "Uh... er... I -"

"Spit it."

"I thought you were going to kill me in public or something," I say truthfully and silently, I think that my death will be printed on the papers' headlines, sorta like, _Genesis Rhapsodos finally snaps and kills own daughter!_ and the reason will be _to save his name, he's crazy_ etc.

"For Minerva's sake, why would I do such a thing?" he sounds incredulous as well, he eyes me like I'm sorta wrong in the head.

"Er, overactive imagination, yeah." That answer, in my opinion, is better than outright saying _I know you're a killer and I don't trust you_ because it'll only make things worse between us. "Oh, hey - we're here!"

With such fancy clothes, Genesis instantly becomes the target for pickpockets but the speed he slaps - and breaks - said robbers' hand are impressive and he doesn't care even when the culprit is a young child. I see a few children I recognize and most of them look back at me with betrayal, their eyes screaming and asking how can I be hanging out with a Plate-dweller when I'm suppose to be one of them.

_Well_, my eyes say back, _sucks to be you; all man for himself_.

This is why I can't demean my father's actions because I'm like him, I care only for myself - safety comes first, everything else second; this is my motto - and my well-being and the well-being of those that are of use to me. My '**friends**' - dead or alive - should know this well by now.

They shouldn't be looking at me with such eyes as if I'm a traitor.

A traitor only is such when the person of their group - one of them - betrays them. _Note:_ I was - and certainly never will - _never_ one of them.

* * *

My father and I end up in some decent Wutaiese restaurant, small and rather cramp and it has China style, which draws my attention in the first place. The attendants however, simply look terrified when they see Genesis, as if he's some sort of monster come out of a storybook.

I wonder what's wrong with them.

"Are you sure you want to eat here?" demands Genesis of me, grimacing at some sort of grease - at least we think so - stain on the table we've settled ourselves in. "This place is so... not up to my standards of cleanliness." The last part is a quick change of dialogue when a waitress approaches us; wow, even he knows when to say the right things in the right situation. I'm expecting him to say something along the lines of ' _- fucking dirty and we'll die of food poisoning if we eat here._ ' which by the way, is something I would've said.

The waitress smiles furtively at us, handing each of us a menu. I politely say my gratitude - mere pleasantry - mirroring Genesis' soft murmur and flip open the menu. Or, at least, I try to, until someone slam it shuts again. I am lucky enough to pull my hands back before it's been trapped in.

I gawp at first before I turn around, eyes narrowed into a glare at the person who's done it. "What the _hell_?"

A cocky grin spreads on the red-head's lips. Rudely, he shoves me out of my seat and claims my menu and seat. "The name's Reno, kid - hey, nice t' meet'cha in such a place, Commander Rhapsodos!"

I expect my father to snap something back or something equally rude but his eyes narrow, and I see wariness in his eyes. My survival instincts kick in - due to the many years spent in the slums where adults murder children for food and vice versa and where everything concerns fighting - and I duck, rolling out of the way as something impales where I stand before.

I gasp in shock. "Run!"

Genesis sweeps me into his arms, and chaos reigns. The customers scream, creating more chaos as they struggle to escape the restaurant, we are push out as well as gunshots rang from behind us. Some pushes me in the head, someone hits me - for their sake, I hope it's entirely incidental - before we finally break free from the crowd.

Genesis liberates himself from the crowds and makes his way - with me in his arms - to a few black suited people. "What is the meaning of this?" he rages, lips thin in anger as he plops me down on the ground.

The Wutaiese looking man glances down at me only for a moment - there's well-concealed curiosity in his amber eyes - before he turns back to my father. "The people working there are Wutai spies, assassins even and from that spectacle just now, we are now a hundred percent sure they are threats and such, we are here to eliminate them." The man sounds as if he's reciting from a textbook.

"Why didn't you apprehend them sooner?"

"Why didn't you get them when there's no one - oh, by the way, who're you?"

"My name is Tseng of the Turks, miss," the Wutaiese man says, answering my question first instead of Genesis and the latter fumes at this. "And we were about to settle things peacefully when Commander Rhapsodos entered - "

"_I_ did nothing, why on Gaia's green - "

"The Wutai people know you well enough and they fear you, they must've assumed you are there to apprehend them and they attack without thought. They pose a large threat so we must eliminate them at all costs, a few sacrifices are... necessary I suppose but this is for the good of Midgar and Shinra."

I glanced back at the listless bodies of civilians, unable to tear my gaze away until a familiar redhead saunters out of the restaurant with a bald-headed guy - they're both covered in blood too and I know what they are the moment I see them - looking cheerful as if he's done this everyday. Well, seeing as it is this sort of occupation, I guess I'm not far off from the mark.

The redhead's hand falls on my blonde head, ruffling it. "The name's Reno yo, ya the Commander's kid?"

"No, she's Sephiroth's daughter," Genesis replies, sarcasm leaking from his tone. "And get your hand off her."

Reno didn't comply with Genesis' wishes, he grins down at me, looking all foxy and sly - I know he's a slumrat instantly because many people has that same face in the slums; sly, calculative and street smart. "Ya got good instincts kid, thinkin' o' trying out for the Turks? I can see ya had a lo' o' potential, yo!"

"My daughter," Genesis practically spits, slapping Reno's hand away and pulling me away. "will never become one of you!"

When we leave the scene of crime, to another restaurant which lacks Wutaieses, he says, "You are better off wary of them, never trust them and avoid them as much as possible, don't talk to them unless you really need to and please, don't be one of them."

I grin and say, "I wanna be the first female SOLDIER ever."

**xXx**


	6. VI

**Tip Of Your Wing**

**Second Arc: SURVIVAL**

_"I live today to see tomorrow."_

**[6]**

* * *

"What weapon do you think you will be good at wielding?" Genesis asks, as we study the clothes in the thrift store. Well, he's the one doing the choosing while I'm just walking around. When I don't answer soon enough, he glances at me briefly and says, "Don't say you want to fight with your fists—I guarantee you don't have the strength to pull it off."

I don't retort because I know he's right and he has more experience in battles than me anyway, I don't even _like_ head-on attacks so and defending with only my hands? Torture... "Short swords maybe, easy to hide and camouflage within clothing and when the enemy least expects it—strike!" I mimes the act slitting—someone's throat—and Genesis looks back at me curiously for a moment.

"Did your mother teach you all this?"

"Uh, I pick it up from my seniors—"

"So you go to school?" asks Genesis as he throws another piece of clothing at me. I pull it from my head and study it; it's a plain white dress with frills and oh, I suppose it won't kill me to wear it. I nod wordlessly and dump it into the shopping basket by my side. "Which school—wait, slums have schools?"

"No, I meant the older kids in the streets, I've never been to school."

"What!" Genesis whirls around so quickly he drops the Bermuda shorts he's holding. "You mean you're... illiterate?!"

Well, in my past life I know a language associated in this world as Wutaiese and I suppose I know English too. But how did I learn them when I've never been to school? I nod and watch, rather amused, as my father crouches, mouth ajar as if he's having some seizure.

Then, after a while, he looks at me, glaringly, "You will learn."

* * *

That sentence, by the way, if you're interested in knowing, landed me where I am now; school.

I'd come up with many pathetic excuses to skip first day—the most stressful day—but Genesis and Angeal insist, not allowing me to escape and here I am. I sigh, kicking a pebble out of my way, before glancing nervously (hah, me - nervous!) at the school building before dragging myself there.

I'm in first grade, problem is, I don't where my class is. "Hmph, lost on first day," I mutter to myself, as per my instincts instruction, make a left turn and continue walking. I stop when I see older, much bigger kids; frustrated, I retrace my steps and start over again, this time heading right, convinced that I'm close since there're lots of kiddie drawings.

"Are you lost?"

I turn and is face with a pair of long legs and I realize I must crane my neck to see the person's face. Curly light strands of strawberry pink hair adorned the woman's head and flows down her back, healthy pink-ish skin and sparkling aqua eyes behind a pair of black glasses, pretty face and a sharp nose; a gentle and kind smile on her face. She's pretty, I squint at the nametag on her black coat and manage to make out 'Serah Fallon' before she crouches down to my height.

"Don't be scared," she says comfortingly, stroking my blonde hair. "I'm a teacher here, I'm Serah Fallon, but just call me 'Teacher' if you will. Are you a new student here? What's your name?"

"Uh... I'm am new"—I'm barely able to bite back the sarcastic retort of _or else I wouldn't be lost_ and say—"The name's L'Cie Rhapsodos."

Surprise flits across her features. "Oh, you're one of my students then! I'm sure I wouldn't forget such a unique name; come on, let's head to class!" She grabs my arm and drag away. Turns out, I wasn't that far from the class in the first place than when I met Ms. Serah for the first time. Fortunately, there's only minor introductions and no one bombarded me with questions and class starts.

It's surprisingly easy and I'm tempted to just snore away but I pity Ms. Serah—she looks new and I don't want to dampen her optimistic opinion of her career with my attitude.

"Psst, hey!" I turn lazily to see the girl who's sitting next to me. Blonde hair pulled into a ponytail and her bangs are braided with orange feathery hairbands. Her clothes are a bright mixture of pastel that it's blinding but her eyes are extremely unique; green the same shade as Sephiroth's but instead of his slits, her eyes are swirled.

Cool, I wish I had eyes like those. "Nice eyes," I say in turn, eyes darting to Ms. Serah who's prattling on about something by the board and all my brain likes to translate is 'blah, blah, blah' so I tune her out to the girl by my side. "Yeah?"

"Nice to meet you, we aren't properly introduces yet so, neighbor, my name's Rikku!" Her swirled eyes glow warmly, just as brightly as her grin. "Wanna grab some lunch together?"

Huh? I look at the clock above the board—a kid's already erasing the chalk written words, and damn, I didn't even know I have to copy anything; it means I have to suck it up and stick by Rikku's side until she gives up her notes to me—and I nod, my hand slipping into my jeans' pocket to grasp the gil Genesis has given me earlier that morning. "We have to pay, right?"

"Yeah," says Rikku, still grinning from ear to ear as she hauls me out of the classroom and down the hallway. I try my best to recognize the twists and turns and anything specific in the hallway so I won't get lost later. "But don't worry! Since today's your first day and I'm so generous, it's on me. Sit here, and wait for me to return! Take care of her, you guys!"

I kick my leg back and forth, studying the new faces. They stare back at me blankly until the blonde—why are there so many blondes surrounding me?—boy breaks into a grin and extends his hand towards me, saying, "Nice to meet you, my name's Tidus and it's not Tie-dus it's TEE-DUS, get it?"

"Ignore him," a black-haired girl, Wutaiese looking but with startling violet eyes (what's with the kids' eyes in this world?), says, rolling her eyes as she bites into her sandwich. "I'm Lulu, by the way. What's your name?"

I don't shake Tidus' hand, nodding to them politely. "I'm L'Cie Rhapsodos, nice to meet you too, Lulu, Tea Dust."

"Hey! Not that like that—"

"And I'm Yuna," I nod at the brown haired, pretty face girl; but once again, her eyes are as special as the rest of the kids; heterochromia, blue and green. "That's Wakka and Chappu—twins but Chappu's the younger one—and there's Ace and Noctis."

Ace turns out to be another blonde and his hair is almost as light colored as mine, his eyes are icy-blue and his eyes are strangely rimmed red as if he's been crying. His cool look contrasts such though, he nods at me once politely before he turns his attention back to the deck of cards he's holding.

Wakka and Chappu are obviously siblings, spiky auburn hair and the same dark eyes and tan skin. Both are larger than us and they simply towered over us, despite their intimidating height, they are smiling at us and look as harmless as a fly.

Noctis has short and spiky black hair, his eyes are like sapphires, twinkling. He nods shyly at me before returning to the hamburger he has on his plate.

Just as I'm about to remark about how hungry I am, Rikku saunters over to us, setting down a plate of sandwich - like Lulu's - before me and a plate of greasy burger in front of herself. I lean over her and swipe it away before she can bite in. "You can take the sandwich," I say, voice muffled as I bit into the burger.

I grin wickedly at her pouting, sad face.

Maybe school's not that bad.


	7. VII

**Tip Of Your Wing**

**Second Arc: SURVIVAL**

**Interlude**

**[7]**

* * *

"Happy Birthday!"

I crack an eye open lazily, turning my head, cheek still pressed on my arm, to look at the commotion stirred by the greeting. I duck when someone throw a beautifully wrapped box over my head. I look up, glaring, and trace the the person who has catch the box.

Noctis grins, waving his hand, yelling, "Thanks, Nick!"

My eyebrows rise when he turns to me abruptly, his grin fading turning to serious. "What?" I ask, sitting straighter so as to not be intimidated by his height. "You need something?" I won't admit this disappoint me out loud but after spending so much time with the Plate-dwellers and my very literate dad, I'm starting to lose the slum-slur and accent.

He holds out his hand, an eyebrow raised cockily which irks me somewhat. "Where's my birthday present?"

Fortunately, sarcasm hasn't been beaten out of me by living on the Plate, namely because Genesis is even more sarcastic than me. I sneer, "In your hand, dummy."

Noctis scowls but he doesn't relent. "You have to give me something, after the large portion of cake you ate."

"I did not," I say indignantly as my fingers brush away some cream from my cheek. "Okay, I did. So? Ya' want me to spit it out now?" I pout, crossing my arms. "Stingy."

"Well," says Rikku as she bounces towards us. "It doesn't have to be something physical—"

"How about this?" I drawl, smirking lazily and ignoring Rikku, handing him the lopsided bear I drew in art class earlier and you don't need to look at my friends' faces to know I am no artist. "You don't have to make such a face, if you don't like it just say so."

"—As I was saying," Rikku continues, narrowing her swirled eyes at me, slapping the piece of paper from her face. "you don't have to give him something he can touch, how about a kiss"—Noctis splutters, face red while I roll my eyes—"or maybe you can give him a date or throw him a party?"

"You're a rich guy's kid, arent'cha?" I dig my pink finger into my ear, slouching further down my seat, ignoring how Rikku wrinkles her nose in distaste. "You ain't got no party in ya house?" I wince at how I sound, I still recall our slang but with no accent, I sound plain weird. I sigh, maybe I should give up and start talking properly.

Noctis droops, he scowls somewhat fiercely. "My dad..." he mumbled the rest of the sentence and Rikku appears baffled, unable to hear but I can hear him clearly with my enhanced hearing. I sigh, sweeping my bangs away from my face. I pity him but I don't have the money to bring him and I don't know any nice places I can take him to—wait, there _is_ a place.

I turn in my seat to face Noctis. "Whaddya think of the play LOVELESS?"

* * *

In the end, the word spread and Rikku had invited our gang to go, not heeding my words that I don't have that many tickets. Even though Ace (have an appointment with the dentist) and Lulu (needs to help her parents at the restaurant) can't make it, and that's two numbers less, I still don't think I have enough money.

The gil problem isn't the only one either, because, apparently, Noctis' driver won't let him come with us; and glumly, the birthday boy tells us his problem. I face-palm, shaking my head, half-incredulous and half-amused. "You're hopeless," I finally say as I look out the window from our classroom on the second floor, seeing the intimidating guards before a sparkling vehicle. "They're in the front, if we go by the back, we'll be able to ditch them."

"Ditch them?" asks Yuna hesitantly, her heterochromia eyes nervous as she twiddles with the end of her skirt. "Won't they get in trouble for loosing Noctis?"

I shrug helplessly. "Well, it's up to Noctis. If ya wanna go wit' us, follow us and ditch those suckers. I ain't forcin' ya."

"If I were you, Noc, my friend," says Tidus, grinning cheekily as he slings an arm around his shoulder, poking the raven's cheek which still possess some baby fat. "I'd ditch them and get them in trouble; they are mean to you right? You should do the same! An eye for an eye, dude!" He winks at me, hinting to me that I'm the one influencing him.

Rikku grins as she bounces towards the door. "None of you have to worry about walking all the way, my parents' approved and I'm allowed to have the chauffeur for our little outing!"

Noctis glances out the window at his guards then he turns to us, biting his lip hesitantly, hesitates once before he follows us. "Wait up!" he yells.

* * *

On the trip, I learnt that not all of us are rich men's kids.

Wakka and Chappu are merely average people who's parents work for Shinra, have quite the rank, and thus, live up here though they're originally from the slums. They have enough money for their daily necessities and to live a fairly comfortable life, not a luxurious one. Lulu is the same but her mother's a professional cook, even owns her own restaurant and her father's the caterer to Shinra. Ace lives a wealthy lifestyle with his single mother though there are rumors that his father is President Shinra and he's the man's illegitimate son; there's a high possibility because they have the same coloring and the fat lard likes fooling around with women anyway.

Noctis is a rich kid too, son of the wealthiest man alive second only to President Shinra, had no mother (divorced) and lives a lonely life in his overly large mansion, lacking any attention or love. Rikku is also a rich kid—richer than me but not Noctis who's the richest among us—but she has the perfect parents; they are all eccentric according to her, spouting ideas on developing something and other, but at least they pay attention to her and nourishes her with the love she needs.

Yuna's timid nature belies her heiress title. Her parents' kicked the bucket and now, she lives with her uncle who's raising her to be his heiress.

Then there's Tidus; he's well-off because his dad is some sort of famous star in some sport—I think it's called blitzball which is a very hard game that takes skill and to be a star, his dad Jecht must be magnificent, not as great as mine but still...—and makes lots of gil in his fame. He doesn't have a mother, died in childbirth, he says such casually but he looked pained as if he'd blaming himself for her death by just being born. Another note is that he doesn't have the best of relationship with his dad so he stays out of the house as much as possible to avoid the man. This is where he and Noctis usually clashes; one wants the attention the father isn't giving while the other has the father's attention but doesn't want it. It's a very sensitive topic so we usually change the subject when the mood darkens and we try our best to stray away from our backgrounds. I know I'll like that, I wouldn't want anyone knowing about May.

As for me, the group thinks I have the coolest dad ever; having a famous SOLDIER as your dad automatically makes you high in the foodchain of those schooling kids; it works just like in the slums so I don't have a hard time adapting. At least, they don't expect me to be able to pull of my dad's acrobatic stunts.

They say I'm interesting too and are interested in knowing how I know so much about this and that. I'm not going to tell them I have memories from my past life—though I have a theory that they might just be memories of someone else or I'm entirely insane or I have the ability to see the future; nevertheless, I still very cautious when it comes to Sephiroth.

The silver-haired man, who is, the person I'm going to see now since he's supposed to be responsible for my well-being today as neither Angeal or Zack is available and Genesis' off on a mission to Wutai (some sort of diplomatic approach but since I saw Dad packing his big guns up, I don't think he'll be doing what the mission first enlisted).

"Stop here," I say, pointing to Shinra Building's main entrance. I turn to my curious friends and say, "Gotta drop a note, wait here!"

"No," calls Rikku, wriggling her way out of the Mercedes and to my side, latching on to my arm which make me frown. "I wanna see your cool dad!"

"My dad's not in, only Sephiroth is in!"

Now, Chappu and Wakka have pull themselves out of the car, their eyes simply glowing with pure adoration, admiration and awe. "Sephiroth?" they echo in unison, bouncing on the soles of their feet energetically. "Now that guy I got to see—he's my all time favorite hero! Please, L'Cie!"

"Yeah! Let's go!" Tidus says enthusiastically, pumping his fists into the air and dashing off into the lobby before I can even protest. "Come on, slowpokes. Last one there is the rotten egg!"

"Ignore him," I snap before the twins can run off after their wayward friend, I place my hands on my hips, trying to appear intimidating but I know I'm failing. "You can't go!"

"But Tidus is already in there—"

"I'll chase him out!" I say but I'm sadly outvoted when Yuna looks at me pleadingly.

"Please?" she pleads, clasping her hands together and looking up at me with watery eyes. I glance back at the empty seat, about to call on Noctis when I don't see him anywhere. I blink, turn and see Noctis already going through the front door.

"No," I moan, resting my forehead on my palm, shaking my head, exasperated as Rikku drags me away, yelling an order for the driver to stay put.

What an odd group we must have made; all children and no adults and with the children's jumping out and down like some monkey, I know we're close to being thrown out. "This way," I say, ushering my friends to the elevator and entering, squishing ourselves to the grown-ups. The adults look down at us oddly but no one said anything which I suppose is good enough for me. I stand on tip-toes to reach the button. I wheeze in exasperation, unable to reach the damned button -

Someone jabbed the button.

"Thanks," I say, craning my neck to see who had done it.

"It's nothing," a soft voice answered. I see flaxen hair and eyes and a cadet uniform. The boy grins down at me, ruffling my hair as the elevator dinged, the doors creaking open and the cadet steps through it, followed by a few others before the door closes and we continue upwards.

"Amazing!" Rikku and Tidus croon, pressing their faces to the glass walls and looking down at the city of Midgar as we continue to ascend, the elevator shooting upwards with amazing speed and I'm mildly surprised that not one of the children are nervous.

"We're here," I announce, the first to jump off the elevator because I'm starting to get dizzy from the height. "Don't stray from the group or I'll leave ya here to rot!"

"Wait," says Yuna, glancing around as if trying to remember the place. "This is where high-ranking officers work right?" I nod, eyebrow raised inquiringly. "I - I've got to inform my uncle first lest he worries."

"He works here?"

Yuna nods, nervous as she shuffles her feet. "Can someone accompany me?"

"Me!" Rikku volunteers, always the friend in need; she links her arms with Yuna and drags her away, as if she's suppose to know where Yuna's uncle is. "We'll meet you at the lobby!"

"Cool, we'll be grand," I say as we continue. I knock before I enter, allowing the General no chance of saying any sort of admittance. "Er, Mister Sephiroth?" I hear my friends murmuring in awe but they don't bombard him with questions or anything else, merely appraising him silently like he's some sort of art. I am slightly awkward since I must admit I'm scared of this man who could destroy the world. "Er, it's nothing really, just that I'm gonna go out with my friends. Just informing you so no one'll worry." I gesture to the boys as means of explanation and am about to close the door and be done with it when he speaks.

"To where?"

"Loveless Avenue. Ta-ta." I close the door before Sephiroth can answer, I'm eager to get away already from him. I release a shaky breath, which Noctis notices first.

"You seem scared of him just now," Tidus remarks before Noctis can, also observant of my reaction; his blue eyes narrow suspiciously. "Did he abuse you or something?"

I laugh incredulously at that. "No, he didn't. Anyways, let's go get the tickets." I say this as I jab a more accessible button. We plummet downwards and I'm careful to not look down, merely concentrate on the doors and waiting impatiently as it finally slides open. "Can we go now?"

"Where?"

"SOLDIER quarters. Dad's apartment's here and I live here. The tickets should be..."

* * *

"...in a place I can't reach," I say with a sigh, crouching down moodily, tapping my chin with my finger repeatedly, wondering what I should do. "What no - WHOA!" I yelp, clutching thin air as I find myself above the ground. Chappu has me on his shoulder, looking up at me imploringly.

"Can you reach it now?" he asks as the rest of them gathers around us. I stretch as far as I can and after a few tries, shake my head. "Hm, why don't we switch places then?"

"Idiot," I say. "I don't have the strength to even pull you up, much less lift you up."

"Use a chair," Noctis suggests wisely, as he and Tidus drags one from the dining table. I snap my fingers.

"Good job," I compliment him before I jab my thumb at the high cabinet. "Go get it. I won't be able to reach it even on the chair."

Tidus sighs but he gestures for Wakka to help him. The biggest boy pulls Tidus onto the chair then lifts him up easily, as if Tidus is just a piece of paper. It doesn't take long for Tidus to grab the papers; I wince when he hands me crumpled tickets. Scowling, I smooth them out as best as possible, then I count the numbers.

There's only four. I take one, handing Noctis and Tidus and Chappu one. We slump down on the couch, together and sighing. I wrack my brain for a solution when the phone inside Dad's office rings loud and clear. "Might be my dad," I say as I drag myself to the door and push it open. The office at home is more furnished than at the original office; of course it's filled with black and red. Loveless books are all neatly arranged on black wooden shelves - all the furniture are made of the same wood.

I don't answer the phone when I see the photostat machine by the computer. Cool. I grin, pulling a white paper and ruler and started measuring the length of the ticket before I place it in the machine, press a few buttons and watch as it print itself out. I pull a pair of scissors from the cylinder case and start to cut it into pieces.

When I leave the office, I hand Wakka one ticket. "These two are for Yuna and Rikku."

"Where did you buy them?"

"I duplicated them."

Noctis furrows his brows. "Huh... won't they know it's fake?"

I roll my eyes. "They won't if we don't say it!"

* * *

I scowl, glowering at Noctis, "Are you happy now that you'd said 'I told you so'?"

"I said nothing of the sort," the boy says moodily, crossing his arms. I scowl heavier, turning to glare at the little machine which tests the ingenuity of the tickets. I glance around, looking for a lee-way; my eyes snap back to the auburn-haired lady who's accepting the tickets and the one who checks it out on the machine. She's smiling and seems naive and nice enough.

"Okay, follow my lead," I say conspiratorially, motioning for them to follow me. I get closer to the attendant and forcefully, push her, making it seem like an accident. Tidus stumbles into her next and Wakka's push is enough to sent her sprawling onto the ground.

Rikku and Yuna play the role of concern. "Are you okay, miss?" the brunette asks, looking genuinely concern and she glares at us culprits as she helps the woman up. "We're sorry we ran into you."

"No," the woman says, grinning. "What're you kids doing here?"

"Uh, to watch the play," Chappu says. "We sorta lost the ticket in that pile... though."

"Oh, it's okay, I'll sift it through soon. Go on it, and enjoy!" she calls to us as we enter.

"Piece of cake," I laugh. "I can't believe she's so naive. She must be new here."

"Where did you learn such things?" Yuna looks slightly appalled but I ignore her expression.

"From somewhere, now come on - we got a play to watch!"

* * *

We enjoy the tragedy end somewhat and all is well for my friends. Not for me though since Genesis unleashes his rage and pent-up emotions on me once he sees that the ticket he's saving for a play is gone and I'm responsible. I shift my feet awkwardly, looking longingly at the door.

These days, even after a year of living with Genesis, it's hard to interpret his actions. I'm not going to lie and say I'm not scared. I look up hesitantly, seeing how Genesis hisses in pain when he moves his right shoulder. I frown, daring to speak up despite the scolding I've just received.

"The bruise still haven't heal, yet?" It's asked out of pure concern, never sympathy because I know how he is and he knows that I know him very well now.

There's no reason to snap at me.

"It's none of your business!"

I bristle angrily. "I'm just worried, is it wrong?!"

"I. Don't. Need. Your. Pity."

"What. Is. Wrong. With. You. "

He looks ready to kill me. I run of course, Genesis' face reminds me too much of May's and old habits die hard, I can't help but run when I see the dangerous expression on their faces. Had my parents met on different circumstances, I'm sure they would've gotten along well.

I slam the door to the apartment shut, leaning on the door and breathing heavily, my body trembling. I fiddle with the end of my shirt, wondering where I should go. Call one of my friends for a sleepover? No, I want to make Genesis worried and regret, he would've known if I go to one of them. Stay in the hallway? Look for Angeal - out, far too easy for him to figure it out. Not Sephiroth, if Genesis is nutty already, I don't want to see what the silver-haired General is capable of.

Well, there is one place I can think of.

If I remember correctly, the cadets' barracks are on the twentieth to thirtieth floor. I ponder silently before jabbing a random button. I glance out the glass window and scream. I jerk back in shock, fear seizing me when I see a monstrous mouth, teeth sharp and large and countless covering the supposedly peaceful night sky. I scramble to the buttons, jabbing the 'open' button but even before my finger come in contact with it, the elevator jerk to a halt.

I tense, eyes wide, what happened? Then when the glass cracks, it starts to sink in that the stray monster has probably break something and stop it or in emergencies like these, the elevators don't operate. Either way, I'm done for. My hands grope done my pants but too late I realize this pants have no pocket.

No, I have gone soft. Living here, with the granted promise of shelter, food and nothing lacking, I've lowered my guard considerably. No longer did I carry a short knife - or any weapon - with me wherever I go like back in the slums where every corner lurks a danger.

But even if I have a weapon - small comforts of _it doesn't matter_ - there's no saying I can beat this monster. I glance at the buttons desperately, jabbing a finger on the 'help' button. A lazy voice drawls through the speaker and his monotone, lazy, uncaring voice nearly make me punch the speaker but I restrain myself.

"There's a monster outside the elevator," I say, gritting my teeth.

Much to my annoyance, the man on the other side says, "Yeah, right, nice try kid. Shinra's security is better than that - "

"But the labs aren't!" I yell in protest, slamming a fist onto the glass walls.

**Crack!**

_Oh shit_. Stupid, _stupid_ temper.

Apparently, the unidentified monster has an unknown appendage because tentacles slide in through the hole I've made, penetrating everywhere within its reach and I'm uncomfortably in the range of said attacks.

How am I going to get out of this one?

* * *

AN

Since so many people like Noctis' inclusion in this story, I added more of him. Whaddya think?


	8. VIII

**Tip Of Your Wing**

**Second Arc: SURVIVAL**

**[8]**

* * *

You seethe silently as you watch the front door slam shut loudly, but you're used to throwing tantrums and the loud sounds that follow after in this household of yours. You're not worried about your daughter much because you know this has happened before and you know how to handle this; even though you're slightly angry she's used the tickets because it's supposed to be just for the two of them, not for her to spend it with her friends he had yet to meet. If she isn't going to come back, she might be spending the night with Angeal or Sephiroth. You hiss out an angry breath, your hand inching to the shoulder wound that haven't heal.

In fact, it's growing angrier and more irritating, painful and it's almost hard to ignore now. You're always in a cranky mood now and you feel slightly ashamed you took it out on your daughter. You glance at the clock hanging by the wall and note that five minutes have passed. Good, time to bring her back from Angeal's.

You stand, wincing at the pain blossoming in your left shoulder, and walk out of your door, not bothering to lock it because the thought of robbing SOLDIER's homes are completely ludicrous. Angeal's your neighbor, all you need to do is walk a few steps and you're there. You raise your hand attached to the uninjured shoulder, knocking impatiently.

You hear someone shuffling, and soon, your old friend appears, messy hair first then tired blue eyes. It seems like he hasn't been sleeping well for some time now and you feel slightly sorry because, too caught up in your own pain, you ignore your friends. You glance at his inquiring face then say, "Where's she?"

Angeal opens the door wider, his eyes half-shut but you lack the energy to laugh anymore. "Who... L'Cie? No, I haven't seen her anywhere. But I think I heard her footsteps going further down the hallway. Try Sephiroth's. Night." And there goes the door.

You do as suggested, shuffling down the hallway to Sephiroth's but you stop in puzzlement because your silver-haired friend's just coming out of his apartment. You squint, "Is she bothering you that much?"

"L'Cie's not here," Sephiroth says, easily guessing who you're referring to.

"Then where are you going?"

The General squints down at you. "Didn't you receive the message?"

"Well, I was out looking for my daughter." Sarcasm isn't needed but it seems into your light tone anyway. "What's the threat?"

"Monsters from the labs, on the loose."

Suddenly, you have a very bad feeling. "Get Angeal. I have a very terrible feeling—"

"L'Cie?" Your friend's gaze darkens slightly, and there's well-concealed concern in Sephiroth's eyes and you're reminded that the silver-haired man cares about your daughter even though she usually shies away from him like the plague. They do have to spend time in one another's presence though whenever no one but him is there to take care of her. She may have lived in the slums before, independent and always on her own since her mother neglects her a lot, you still don't like entertaining the idea of her alone and possibly torching something.

You nod at your friend's inquiry, darting into your apartment and changing quickly, giving the place one last over—who knows maybe his daughter snuck in when he's out, he knows she is entirely capable of doing so—before leaving. Angeal and Sephiroth greet you and you don't take the time to note how different both your friends are.

Angeal looks years older, bone-weary and he still hasn't shaved yet so he doesn't look so ruggishly handsome as he usually does. Sephiroth looks as perfect as ever even though there are some silver strands entangled. You know you look nice of course, your hair always fall into place without needing to brush it, and your skin sparkles healthily though after that stupid spar, your skin seems to lack its usual glow.

You don't ask your friends' where you're supposed to go because in times of emergencies like these, the commanders usually go see Lazard, the Director of SOLDIER. You're sorely tempted to just turn and go down another direction to look for L'Cie but your friends keep a firm grip on you.

"She's a smart girl," Angeal keeps saying whenever you crane your neck to look in another direction. "I'm sure she isn't in any sort of trouble."

Turns out, when we reach Lazard who's face is as white as a sheet, she isn't. "I must request neither of you freak out when you see what our surveillance camera has caught."

You'd roll your eyes at the suggestion. "Please," you say, snorting shortly as you walk closer. "Don't try me. I need to find my daughter so let's get this over with quickly. Where's the monster... oh... L'Cie?" You gape at the computer screen, barely noticing Lazard inching away when he sees how you're denting the mouse, doesn't register Sephiroth and Angeal rushing over, trying to see the screen either.

"Goddess," Angeal hisses, running a hand through his cowlick hair, his blue eyes now wide and alert. "She's in there! What do we do now?"

"This isn't good," says Sephiroth, frowning, the concern glinting in his eyes. "In emergencies, the elevators stop working and there's been more than one account of how it usually detaches and falls—"

"Sephiroth!" Lazard and Angeal cries in unison, shooting the social imbecile a glare.

"I'm going," You say abruptly, hearing none of their voices, you see their lips move but you don't register what they're saying; blood roars and pounds in your ears. You think this starts when you first see the blonde head of hair belonging to a child in the elevator, and the girl's company is a very nasty monster. Just as you pull back from the dented mouse, the screen, a loud and horrible _screech!_ coming from the speakers and the elevator shakes before stilling.

You see your daughter's eyes widen in panic as she stumbles further away from the monster. She jabs a button, calling for help, but the imbecile on the other side ignores her. You don't stay to hear the rest of it, already running, the wind whistling in your ears even before your brain can register what you're trying to accomplish. How are you going to kill a monster hanging by the elevator anyway?

You skid to a halt, at a point before a elevator where you sees a group of cadets, Thirds and Seconds are gathering around. You snarl at them to get out of your way and they hastily obey but one boy resists. You see blue eyes and spiky hair and concern etched into the features and you know it's Zack.

"What're we goin' to do?" the Puppy panics, pacing until Angeal arrives at the scene with Sephiroth. He practically flings himself at Angeal, wailing, "What're we goin' to do?! The monster's ripping apart the cables!"

Sephiroth ignores the two, coming to your aid, his hands prying into the left door. "At the count of three," he says and you agree.

One—the metal dents, giving away some with a creak—Two—Angeal's yelling for the SOLDIERs and cadets to deal with the rest of the monsters and you and Sephiroth are making good progress even though more help would be appreciated—Three, Angeal's helping already, in the middle as he pushes both doors apart and soon, you're bashing the metal into the wall.

You blink before looking down. Only a small gap there. You crouch down and squint, tentacles are wrapping themselves around L'Cie's neck and all you can see is red_blood_crimson before you dash off, running down the stairs at a speed you've never managed before and you dimly register Angeal following you. You don't stop to wonder where Sephiroth is.

* * *

You don't follow when Genesis and Angeal run down the hallway, make a sharp turn and down the stairs. You crouch, your hair spilling onto the ground in rivulets. You call out, "L'Cie, can you hear me?"

Small, pale hands grip the tentacles tightly, and with strength borne of fear, rip them away from her throat. L'Cie's throat is sore and red, and she looks as if she's been crying. She nods jerkily, before she points to the monster. "Get it from up there!" she's screaming, ordering you. You allow yourself a brief sense of amusement at the thought of a child ordering the General around before you consider her suggestion. It's plausible and though not quite sensible, seems to be the only way and his Masamune has the long reach to reach her anyway.

You hesitate, wondering how bad it'd be if the weakened cables above can't take your added weight and imagine the horror if the elevator snaps. You know you'll survive but chances are, L'Cie wouldn't and you know Genesis will never forgive you is something happens to her.

You know it's bad and you only have seconds to kill the monster, reach her and get out safely. That's why the moment your feet touches unstable metal, you're already moving, mobilizing with inhuman speed and when Masamune slices through glass which tickles you as you ploughs through those shards, and then—moments too fast for your eyes to register—monster flesh, flinging it away from the elevator, you've never been more thankful for the inhuman enhancement done to your body. After all, it has its own perks too.

But you've miscalculated, the monster flies right back and bats at you. Your mouth widen in horror as the elevators emits a terrible screech as it descends with horribly fast speed. You realize you're not following because you've anchored yourself with Masamune. You don't hesitate, emptying Masamune of her slots and flinging it at the elevator, hoping that it reaches L'Cie so she can use it to protect herself.

"Sephiroth!" You look up to see Angeal and Genesis' despaired faces. Genesis' is the most anguished as he rushes away again. "What're you doing there?"

"Get me in, why don't you?"

* * *

I turn, seeing shiny baubles rolling around on the metal floor. I sniffle, wondering what's the use of materia when we're descending so quickly anyway. And it's terrible, to know I'm going to die again and I've made no difference in this world for the men I'm starting to care about. I glance at the materia rolling and bumping into my feet. I hold it for the smallest form of comfort, wondering what haven it has to offer me, and why did someone throw it at me.

I blink, rolling the materia in my palm, wondering what it is. The materia is yellow and it exudes a commanding aura and it seems to draw the monster in even more, but the monster doesn't attack, seeming hesitant. I roll it around for a moment, recalling that I've seen this materia in father's collection of materias and I dimly recall a yellow orb capable of commanding monsters.

It's my last chance to get out unscathed. "Can you fly?" I ask.

The monster doesn't answer and I decide to just take my chances, closing my eyes and pouring my entire energy into it. I glance back up at the monster as its tentacles encircle around me and places me gently on its back. "Fly!" I yell, but still, there's no wings at the back. Instead, tentacles twist into one, forming two large appendages barely resembling wings and it jump off the elevator.

I make the mistake of looking down. I nearly faint and lose my hold on the materia. But I don't have to worry about heights since the monster tumble down anyway. Let me get this clear: the monster, for all its badassery, cannot fly despite the makeshift wings.

Shit. Well, at least I died trying. I glance to my right, seeing the buildings, and as if sensing my intentions through the materia, the monster disentangles its wings and latches onto the concrete buildings, forcefully ripping away walls and forcing its way in.

"It's the monster!" someone yells, and I see a few men gathering and brandishing their swords.

"No, wait—"

The monster lets out an unearthly howl as its grip loosens and we fall. I want to scream but the wind has rip away the voice from my throat. I barely register the tentacles wrapping around me loosening as pain, black and hard and forceful, conquers every senses and everything goes black.


End file.
